


Nothing But My Aching Soul

by timeywimeyshenanigans



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Lots of it, M/M, agnst, inspired by Young & Beautiful by Lana Del Rey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-19
Updated: 2013-07-19
Packaged: 2017-12-20 16:30:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/889422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timeywimeyshenanigans/pseuds/timeywimeyshenanigans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hannah this is your fault</p></blockquote>





	Nothing But My Aching Soul

**Author's Note:**

  * For [teamozera](https://archiveofourown.org/users/teamozera/gifts).



> _Will you still love me_  
>  when I'm no longer young and beautiful  
> Will you still love me  
> When I've got nothing but my aching soul  
> Young and Beautiful~ Lana Del Rey  
> 

The words floated quietly through the interior of the cab that Castiel was currently riding in. A small piece of plastic was all it had taken for him to be able to get transportation back to the bunker, for which he was thankful for. Up until that point in the ride, he had intentionally be thinking in a direction-less and vague manner, but somehow these particular words of this particular song had cut through the haze that was his thoughts. It wasn't familiar in any sense, nor did it remind him of any particular incident. But somehow, the words still made it so all of the doubts that he had been shoving to the back of his mind came forward. Nothing left but an aching soul. Worse. A new soul that was already broken. He was left in a powerless state where he'd actually have to worry about things like ageing, in something that had stopped being a vessel and started being a body.  
And that was terrifying. Not necessarily just the concept of being human. Being human he could deal with, in fact, it was advantageous in a way. When you don't have the entire wrath of Heaven to back you up, it's quite a bit more difficult to inadvertently destroy everything. But what was terrifying was how being powerless would affect the people he cared about most. Without powers, what was he to them? He had once been referred to as a baby in a trench coat, but did that really cover it. He was another mouth to feed, another bed to make, a liability, a burden. Actually, maybe that name was accurate.  
He'd also been told that he was needed. That even broken, even cursed, he was still part of the team.. Words such as that were often able to sustain him. Made him feel important and worthwhile. But even then, even insane, even broken, he was still powerful. And that was key, wasn't it? As an angel, he was valuable, priceless. As a human, he was simply disposable.  
And you know what? That fucking _hurt_. It hurt more than any physical pain could, any torture that could be conceived. To know that the people that you've died for, the people that you couldn't imagine life be without, the one person that you may even be irrevocably in love with, finds you, in all practical senses, useless. To know that they'll try to avoid telling you that you're a burden, to try and ignore the looks of annoyance that you're still there, to constantly think that the people around you just wish you would disappear, he's not sure he could face it.  
Maybe he wouldn't have to. The plastic could take him to the bunker, why couldn't it take him to other destinations? He had a few options. Other hunters wouldn't take to kindly to him, but perhaps he could find one of the three angels that did not yet hate him. Or perhaps he could return to Colorado, Daphne had been an incredibly kind woman. Of all people, his wife would be the least likely to want to immediately dispose of him, wasn't she? Anyway, he could decide later where his destination was, it's not as if wandering was exactly foreign to him. But before then, the gravelly voice of the taxi driver had called out, “We're here.”  
His heart began to beat rapidly just at the thought of seeing the Winchesters, particularly Dean, which was ridiculous. He wasn't even going to see them, there was no reason for the rush of adrenalin. Still, it was at this moment that he had to somewhat decide where to go. Meekly, he replied, “Actually, would it be possible to ride to the airport?”  
“Can you pay for it?”  
“I believe so, yes.”  
“Then whatever you want, just as long as I get a tip.”  
Still, Dean would want to know he was alive. Not take care of him, not be burdened by his presence, but maybe the information would be helpful. Just in case there was actually a use for him.  
“I don't suppose two minutes here could be in order?”  
“Whatever.”  
Castiel climbed out of the cab in a hurry. Pulling out various bits and pices, he eventually found a decent pen and a reasonably sized piece of paper, he was able to quickly write down the basics, he was alive, he was sorry, and where he could be contacted. Just as he was about to put it by the door and leave, the bunker entrance swung open to reveal an equally confused, angered, and hopeful Dean.  
“Cas?”  
“Hello Dean.”  
Frustration won out.  
“Cas! Where the hell have you been?! With all the shit with the angels falling we thought you were dead or captured or something crappy like that! What the actual fuck took you so long to get here?”  
So maybe it was more concerned than angry. Cas couldn't tell. Nor could he make eye contact.  
“I apologize Dean. If I could have contacted you sooner I would have.”  
Dean let out a slight sigh at that.  
“Yeah, I bet you would've too. Guessing you're human now. Anyway, you gonna come in or not?”  
Castiel glanced back towards the cab and remembered that sinking feeling of worthlessness, and decided to hold his ground.  
“No, I don't think so. I'm afraid I would just be a burden at this point, and I was just leaving.”  
“Seriously? Come on, this place has, like, twenty bedrooms and one hell of a kitchen and honestly it's kinda empty right now. You should stay, seriously man.”  
“No, I'm..I'm no longer required, here, I mean.”  
Dean gave an exasperated look before shooting Cas a glare. But instead of speaking directly to him, he barrelled past him and spoke to the taxi driver with a false smile.  
“I'll give you a fifty if you leave right now, sans trench-coated passenger. Either that, or you and me can have a nice chat.”  
There was no hesitation before the cash was taken and the car went screeching into the distance.  
“Now that that's care of, we gotta talk about some things. 1. You're staying. Deal with it. 2. You're an idiot. You have never been needed or useful or worthwhile because of your powers and the whole 'angel of the lord' thing. Sure, it's come in handy a few times. But you're needed because you're you, okay? And you're family. People need family and my family seems to be forgetting that and I'm tired of this 'I'm useless' bullshit. You're getting as bad as Sam, or hell, me. So how about we skip that part, and you come in, get yourself a shower and some decent soup, have some of the soup I've begun to prepare, and _stay_.”  
And then Dean headed into the bunker, door wide open.  
And Castiel followed.  
 _I know you will, I know you will. I know that you will._

**Author's Note:**

> hannah this is your fault


End file.
